


Keep Dreaming, Keep Drinking

by BeautyInChains



Category: Travelers (TV)
Genre: Alcohol, Coming In Pants, Drinking, Dry Humping, Frottage, Hair-pulling, Kissing, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-31
Updated: 2018-12-31
Packaged: 2019-10-01 17:03:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,231
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17248058
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BeautyInChains/pseuds/BeautyInChains
Summary: Philip would be a liar if he said he'd never thought about what it might be like, with Trevor.





	Keep Dreaming, Keep Drinking

**Author's Note:**

> I just finished Season 3 and I am overwhelmed with the feelings. I just needed to write something happy. And filthy. Which is sort of my MO. This is my first Travelers' fic, so I hope I did the boys justice.
> 
> Unbeta'd, con-crit/kudos/comments most welcome <3
> 
> Title has been borrowed from the song Wasted by Peking Duk.

The future they come from is bleak, that much is true, but if they had had access to even a fraction of the distractions and pleasures the 21st had to offer Philip supposes it wouldn't be so bad. Although, he's also certain those are at least some of the things that had lead to their civilization's demise in the first place. But as long as he's a 21st century man in a 21st century world he may as well take advantage.

The heroin is too heavy. It makes him feel so good, but it's fleeting and the aftermath isn't a price worth paying. He has a job to do, after all. Alcohol on the other hand...

So he experiments.

The hard liquors burn his tongue and scald his throat like fire on the way down. It makes him maudlin and temperamental. The sweet stuff makes him want to dance, makes his head spin both during and after. Anything creamy curdles in his stomach and doesn't stay there for long. Red wine makes him want to curl up under the covers and white white makes him run his mouth. Beer makes him smile and laugh. And bloat, but it's worth it.

Trevor takes some convincing, but after a particularly exhausting mission he caves, if only to bask in their success. So when Mac slips away quietly to be with his wife, and Carly leaves to look after Jeffrey, and Marcy disappears to be with David, Philip introduces Trevor to the simple pleasures of 21st century alcohol. It becomes clear that Trevor's host has some experience with the stuff. Philip is giggling and squirming and sweating for what feels like ages before Trevor cracks.

"I feel good," Philip says, tugging the damp fabric of his t-shirt away from his chest.

"Mmm," Trevor hums in agreement.

"This host," Philip continues, "He's not so bad when he's clean. I like him." If Trevor's noticed the way Philip strokes his hands down his own stomach and thighs, he doesn't say anything. Philip sucks his bottom lip into his mouth, chews at the plump flesh. "What about you?"

Trevor smiles, "What about me?"

"Do you like yours? Your body?"

"This body is strong. Young. I'm grateful, but it can be," Trevor stops suddenly, and Philip can see the wheels turning. "Problematic," is what he says finally.

"Problematic," Philip repeats with no real inflection, no real question.

"It's hormonal. _Virile_. It craves release."

"Oh," Philip breathes out. He feels hot suddenly despite the way his sweat is beginning to cool. He can feel his nipples tightening, hardening beneath the thin fabric of his shirt. Trevor's sinking back into the couch, knees spreading, almost touching Philip. Philip would be a liar if he said he'd never thought about what it might be like, with Trevor. Trevor with his tight body, his unfaltering stamina, and his dark, expressive, old soul eyes.

Philip's always liked 0115, but Philip also really likes _Trevor_. And so of course he's thought about it. Late at night. Under the covers. Philip can feel his cock begin to thicken up in his jeans and he knows that he should stop. Can't. "Do you..." he wants to hear Trevor say it. His throat clicks on a hard swallow and Trevor shifts next to him.

"I have to," Trevor says, answering what Philip couldn't quite bring himself to ask, "Touch myself. If I don't, if I go too long it becomes an almost unbearable distraction. Like an itch that needs to be scratched. Even if I think about it, this body..."

Trevor is hard. Blatantly, obviously hard.

"Problematic," Philip murmurs, legs inching apart until his knee is pressed against Trevor's, both grounding and electric. Trevor's fingers are inching toward his cock. "You should-"

"Should?" Trevor asks, fingers curling and cupping himself between the legs.

"We should," Philip tries again.

" _We_ ," Trevor agrees and Philip moans when Trevor gives himself a squeeze. Philip sighs, his own fingers slipping beneath his shirt. His hips jump, cock surging as he grazes his nipples, toys and pinches. "God," Trevor moans reverently, "You're so sensitive."

And Trevor's watching him. Watching Philip play with his nipples, hard and almost red under his own assault. Watching Philip's cock throb beneath the zipper of his jeans. Watching Philip watch Trevor. Trevor's still squeezing and stroking himself over his jeans. Philip hisses when he sees a damp spot begin to form on the fabric.

" _Fuck_ , you-" Philip's at a loss.

"Yeah," Trevor grinds out, "This body gets so wet. I-I get wet."

Philip whines, hands flying to his zipper, shaking as he pulls his cock free.

"Oh," Trevor says, eyes locked on the thick cock slapping up against Philip's belly. He's panting hard. It's such a beautiful sound. Philip wants to commit the sound to memory.

"Trev," Philip mewls and then he's on him. Trevor goes down easy beneath Philip's weight, falling back against the couch cushions as Philip slots a leg between his. Trevor's blinded by sensation, from the tickle of Philip's nipples grazing his chest to the sweet grind of Philip's fat cock against his own. He feels frantic as he arches up beneath Philip, hips jerking, desperately seeking friction. His hands fly to Philip's hair and pull.

Philip howls and Trevor can feel the kick Philip's cock gives against him. "You like that," Trevor growls against his ear as Philip ruts against him with renewed force.

"I like that," Philip agrees. Trevor shivers at the sound of him. "Don't stop."

"Won't," Trevor bites out, fingers curling into Philip's hair with purpose, nails grazing his scalp as he gives a sharp tug. Philips hips falter in their rhythm against Trevor's. Trevor gasps as Philip's lips brush against his jaw, as Philip's nose bumps against his own. Trevor's always been clever. "Yes," he says and then Philip's lips are on his. It's as desperate as their rutting; teeth clacking, jaws slack, tongues slick and tangled as they pant into one another's mouths. It's perfect. Trevor can feel it building, the delicious sensation he's become so well versed in. "Phil-Phillip," he says, breaking the kiss, "I'm gonna come. You're gonna make me come."

"Fuck, _Trev_ ," Philip swears, head dropping into the crook of Trevor's shoulder, hands pinning Trevor's hips beneath him as Trevor's brows draw up tight and his jaw drops. Philip can feel it, the way Trevor's body winds up tight before jerking against him, cock pulsing hotly against Philip's as he spurts inside his jeans, fingers tightening in Philip's hair until the pleasure-pain has Philip following him over the edge.

Philip comes with a shout, rope after rope of thick, white jizz splattering between them, soaking through the rough fabric of Trevor's jeans. Philip's still trembling through the aftershocks when Trevor's finger brushes curiously over the slick head of his cock. He gasps sharply, cock twitching up almost painfully. Trevor bumps his nose up against Philip's by way of apology, strokes Philip's blond locks from his sweaty forehead.

"We should, ah, get cleaned up," Trevor says finally.

"Right," Philip says, lifting himself up slowly, shivering at the sight of the mess he's made of Trevor. At the mess they've made of one another.

"And after..."

"After?"

"Round two?"

Philip feels a smile tug at his lips, relief tug at his heart. "Do you mean drinks or?" he asks, gesturing at the space between them.

"Yes."


End file.
